Chapter Three
Farrah was caught in the sudden downpour with nowhere to shelter and resigned herself to a soaking as she trudged back towards the house.
By the time she arrived, her hair was dripping down her back in rats’ tails, the hood of her fur-lined cloak offering insufficient protection against the elements which had chosen a most inconvenient moment to unleash their fury.
Farrah felt like screaming with annoyance and throwing one of Sophia’s famous hissy fits at the unfairness of her family’s situation, about which only she appeared to be particularly concerned.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ Her mother glanced up from a hat she was trimming and frowned. ‘Look at you! You are not fit to be seen.’
Farrah withheld a sigh and refrained from comment.
It ought not to have surprised her that her mother remained impervious to their squalid accommodation and the absence of a husband with whom she had fully intended to be reunited.
Such nugatory concerns clearly did not take priority in her mind over the need to alter her millinery.
Her mother, Farrah knew, had perfected the art of burying her head and only seeing what she wished to.
‘We ought to be getting ready,’ Mama said, glancing at the long clock in the corner of the room and tutting as she simultaneously examined the results of her handiwork, holding the hat up and examining it critically from all angles.
‘It will suffice, I suppose. Anyway, there is no time to make further improvements since we must leave for Alton House in just over two hours.’
‘Two hours!’
‘Time got away from me,’ Mama admitted.
‘But it still leaves us ample opportunity to discuss the necessary economies we must put in place.’
‘Economies?’ Mama blinked at Farrah as though she didn’t understand the meaning of the word.
‘Don’t be so ridiculous, child. Really, Farrah, you have always been prone to exaggeration.
I am absolutely sure that you do it just to draw attention to yourself and to try my patience.
’ She shook her head. ‘So selfish. The house is a little run down, I’ll grant you, but all will be well when the duke finds your papa for us. ’
Farrah let out a long breath, frustrated almost beyond endurance.
Did her mother actually believe what she had just said?
Even by her own standards, she was being totally unrealistic.
She had not once enquired about the state of their finances and didn’t appear to appreciate that their few remaining servants had not been paid or that local tradesmen were running out of patience.
In that respect at least, Farrah was grateful for her delusional state, since she most emphatically did not want her mother to enquire about the source of the funds she had used to set matters right.
More to the point, if Mama learned that Farrah still had a little set aside, she would recover from her ire and nag day and night until she gave it up for Sophia’s advancement.
‘I am sure that he will, Mama,’ Farrah replied, keeping her tone even by the sheer force of will, not being sure of any such thing.
‘But in the meantime we have to eat, which takes priority over …’ She glanced at the hat which was still the focus of her mother’s attention and permitted her words to trail off.
‘Oh, do stop flapping, child. Your chatter is making my head hurt.’ Her angry frown gave way to an angelic smile when Sophia flounced into the room.
‘Mama, you must come at once! Mary cannot find my pale blue muslin, which I especially want to wear to visit the duke. First impressions are so important, as well you know.’
Farrah’s mouth fell open, rendering her uncharacteristically speechless.
It was obvious to her now that her mother and sister seriously believed that the duke would fall at Sophia’s feet in a fit of blind adoration the moment he laid eyes on her.
That, presumably, was why Mama was not unduly concerned about their parsimonious state, convinced that rescue was at hand in the shape of their aristocratic neighbour.
‘Oh, that girl!’ Mama put her sewing aside and stood up. ‘I declare, she is the laziest creature on God’s earth.’
Since Mary was charged with caring for Mama and Sophia as well as Farrah on the rare occasions when she couldn’t do without the services of a maid, Farrah felt the full force of the criticism on Mary’s behalf.
Farrah knew that she was currently unpacking and pressing her mother’s and her sister’s clothing and didn’t have a moment to spare.
Farrah had insisted upon dealing with her own much less substantial wardrobe herself in order to ease her burden.
‘But still,’ Mama added in what was probably supposed to be a conciliatory tone, ‘I suppose we had better run the gown to ground ourselves. Come along, Sophia.’ Another glance at the clock produced an irritated tut.
‘There is not a moment to lose. You must look your very best, my darling, and once you are turned out to perfection the duke will be eating out of your hand before we know it.’
Mother and daughter swept past Farrah as though she didn’t exist, their voices gradually fading as they mounted the stairs.
Farrah slumped into the nearest chair, mindless of her damp petticoats and tangled hair, thinking about the alarming information Mrs Evans had imparted to her.
Would Papa really have doubled his tenants’ rents?
It seemed impossible, and yet … and yet she had seen for herself the sorry state of affairs here at Dalton Houe.
Desperation could make men act out of character, she knew, but even so …
If he had not given the order then it could only have come from Freeman, and Farrah baulked at that possibility. He was her friend and totally loyal to the family.
Wasn’t he?
Before overhearing his conversation with their coachman no one could have convinced her otherwise.
But now Farrah didn’t know what to think or whom to believe.
All she did know was that her father needed to be found at once and made to face up to his responsibilities.
He may not know about the rent increases ? she hoped that however desperate he had become, he would not have done something so cruel.
The deplorable state of the family’s finances could not have escaped his attention, though, and had not arisen overnight.
Had he run away from his debts, or were more sinister forces at play?
Mama was convinced he was still alive, but niggling doubts had crept into Farrah’s head since arriving at Dalton Hall to discover that he’d been nowhere near the place these past months.
Did he have pressing debts in London too?
Gambling debts that Farrah knew nothing about.
Could that be why he had quit the capital in the middle of his favourite daughter’s season?
If he was already stretched, then the rental of a house in town for an entire season, together with the staff to run it, would have set him back a pretty penny.
Perhaps rumours about unpaid debts had circulated within the ton, which would explain why none of Sophia’s admirers had declared themselves.
They would not be permitted to align themselves with a family who didn’t fulfil their obligations.
Where the devil had Papa taken himself off to?
Farrah wondered, pacing the length of the room in agitation.
Why had he left his wife and daughters to resolve his problems?
She didn’t have a particularly high opinion of her father’s weak character, but she hadn’t thought him quite that irresponsible – leaving her to reach the only other possible conclusion.
He must be dead.
A chill ran down her spine as she confronted that possibility.
If he had killed himself, surely he would have left a note?
The fact that he had not done so and that no body had been found implied that another person had helped him on his way.
Someone who had loaned him money and run out of patience, perhaps.
But if that was the case, why kill him? The debt would die with him, surely?
Papa’s only remaining asset was his estate. This estate. Unless …
Farrah clapped a hand over her mouth as a terrible possibility occurred to her. God forbid that Papa had signed away the estate! It had been in the family for generations. Surely he would not …
But Farrah knew that desperate men acted out of character when … well, desperate.
If he had done so, she reasoned, once her heart rate slowed and the palpitations ceased, then the new owner would have shown himself long since and evicted them.
That being the case, Papa must presumably be hiding himself away somewhere, waiting …
hoping for his affairs to sort themselves out.
Mama was not her only parent who had perfected the art of avoiding reality rather than facing up to it.
But who would have offered him shelter for all this time?
It surprised Farrah that she could so easily imagine her father running away from his responsibilities and leaving his wife and daughters ? leaving her ? to somehow keep the wolf from the door.
Upset, angry and very afraid for their future, Farrah took her turn to glance at the clock and then utter an oath.
She had been stewing for over an hour and needed to make herself respectable for the visit to the ducal estate.
Unlike her sister, she didn’t much care about what she wore but she didn’t want to become an object of ridicule in the eyes of the duke, who was likely to be highly judgemental.
Although they were close neighbours, she had only met her mother’s friend, the dowager duchess, on a few isolated occasions, and had never set eyes on the duke and his brother.